Now first, as I shut the door, |
I was alone |
In the new house ; and the wind |
Began to moan.
|
Old at once was the house, |
And I was old
; |
My ears were teased with the dread |
Of what was
foretold,
|
Nights of storm, days of mist, without
end ; |
Sad days when
the sun |
Shone in vain : old griefs and griefs |
Not yet begun.
|
All was foretold me ; naught |
Could I
foresee ; |
But I learned how the wind would sound |
After these
things should be.
|
Edward
Thomas |
Classic Poems |
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[ Adlestrop ] [ In Memoriam (Easter, 1915) ] [ Lights Out ] [ Out in the Dark ] [ The New House ] [ The Owl ] |
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